


Love and Liberty Reprimed

by TaraTargaryen



Series: The Nuclear Option [5]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Action, Adventure, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Destiny, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fate, Fluff, Friendship, Implied Relationships, Love, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 03:41:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6140428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraTargaryen/pseuds/TaraTargaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a falling out over a particular deathclaw egg, Paladin Danse and Knight Adeline Adams part ways. After a long hiatus and some time to think it over, Adams returns to the Prydwen with a new mission brief and a refreshed attitude and Danse struggles with his developing feelings for the Sole Survivor and his loyalty to the Brotherhood of Steel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and Liberty Reprimed

**Author's Note:**

> I am a backwards kind of person. I couldn't write in a straight line to save my life, I prefer to write in sections as the inspiration strikes me. Since starting this work of fiction several weeks ago, I have added much more to it and connected a fair amount of story line up, but since this is only the second official publication in my life (I had a story published in a book of stories when I was ten) I wanted to share with you my favorite part - the part that kept me up at night for days, the part that generated several save files on my PS4 while I tried to get in some of the character's heads. The part that started it all. Adeline Adams is my OC, my Sole Survivor. I Googled the list of names that Codsworth knows and picked the first two that rolled off my tongue, just to have the thrill of being called by name (and it was totally worth it). 
> 
> So here we are, with the Sole Survivor's anticlimactic return to the Prydwen, just before Liberty Reprimed. For a bit of context (I wouldn't want to throw you in the deep end, after all, Adams has been doing some solo recon in the Commonwealth with her ol' pal MacCready after throwing a hissy fit and dismissing Paladin Danse. I wouldn't want to give much more than that away.

"Paladin Danse."

His eyes flicked up to Paladin Brandis, sitting across the mess hall table from him. Knight Adams' voice was simultaneously hesitant and expectant. Danse had thought about her every day since they parted. He read her reports the minute Maxson and Quinlan cleared them for public use. His headaches and fatigue had steadily worsened in her absence. Teagan and Brandis, and even Maxson, had noticed his souring demeanor; the two former even having guessed at the cause. Brandis cleared his throat. There was a smile on the old codger's face and a twinkle in his eye.

"Well, well, you've made it back alive, sister. I feel congratulations are in order. Your report concerning the Boston Mayoral Shelter was spot on. We reclaimed the location from the Institute synths and took home a payload of high-powered magnets. I know we owe the whole mission to you because Proctor Ingram won't stop going on about it."

Adams embraced the old paladin like a brother, a modest blush and the tiniest of smiles creeping up her face. "It wasn't all me, you know. I had a tip-off from a settlement that synths were swarming the place. I only investigated on a whim, actually."

Brandis chuckled. "I know, I read the report. Nevertheless, the Brotherhood is proud to have you in their ranks. Ad victoriam, sister." He saluted Knight Adams and raised his eyebrows suggestively at Danse, excusing himself. Adams took his seat across the table.

Her smile widened as she studied his face, amusement and tenderness crossing her features. "Danse." She used his name as a greeting.

"Knight Adams." He replied, more curtly than he'd intended.

 

Adams' grey eyes turned wary and bored into his. Unable to think efficiently, Danse went back to his meal. "I'm relieved to be back." She said softly. "I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders." She sighed, and looked around her fondly. He could see a fresh laser burn on her neck, though much of it was covered by her high-collared flight suit. He thought about the first time he'd seen her in it with mixed emotions. He wanted to reach across the table and tuck that stray strand of copper hair behind her ear. He wanted to tell her how unbelievably proud of her he was. How he hadn't had a decent night's sleep since they parted ways. How relieved he felt to have her back on the Prydwen, sitting in front of him. Instead, he said nothing.

"When you have time, Adams, I'd like a private word." Danse's face remained a mask. He was never any good at dealing with his feelings.

Adams' eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "Absolutely, Paladin. Just tell me where and when."

He hesitated. Inviting her into his quarters again would get them written up for fraternization at worst; and borderline insubordinate at best. "The Prydwen forecastle would probably be the best place. We aren't likely to be disturbed there. I'll meet you there in ten minutes."

Adams stood up from the table and headed upstairs, looking back over her shoulder at him curiously. Danse watched her go, wondering how to find the words to say.

 

Danse joined her on the forecastle, though her back was to him. Adams was gazing across the Commonwealth, and he didn't blame her. He loved being in the air. On the Prydwen, aboard a vertibird, at the top of a pre-War skyscraper, the world laid out in front of him. "I'm glad you're back." He told her.

The knight turned on her heel and smiled wryly. "Are you though?"

"Entirely. I won't lie, I've been worried about you. Our last conversation didn't end -"

Knight Adams held up a hand. "Danse, you were right. The wasteland doesn't need one more deathclaw. But the egg was there, and the mother... the mother had killed all those people, trying to get it back... I felt... a kind of kinship with it. It was irrational."

Danse felt a sudden flood of remorse. "I compelled you to ignore your maternal instinct." He realized.

Adams nodded. "It was the right thing to do." She added firmly.

Danse felt floored. "I forced Haylen to disregard her medical training -"

"There is no need to bring that up again." Adams eyes flashed a flinty warning. "You are an exemplary officer, Paladin. You are dedicated and strong and level-headed. I couldn't ask for a better commanding officer."

 

There it was again. The warm relief spreading across his chest, the intense feeling of pride and respect that usually accompanied thoughts and conversations regarding Knight Adams. Her belief in him was more reassuring than praise from anyone else. He looked down at her small face and saw the same respect and admiration returned. "It feels good to hear you say that." Danse admitted.

Her arms snaked between the pauldrons on his power armor and locked behind his neck. _Protocols,_ he warned himself half-heartedly, gazing down at her. _Just... just let her get away with one,_ another voice argued weakly. Adams pressed her lips to his. For a moment he did nothing, except feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek and her soft lashes flutter against his skin. He held her, awkwardly, not wanting to crush her under his heavy gauntlets, and let her lead. He tried to tell himself he didn't want this, but what he really didn't want was to get them both written up. _You're on the forecastle, alone. No-one will know._

"I've missed you," she murmured against his lips. Her thumb caressed the small opening at the back of his neck between his hood and the collar of his uniform. He heard himself groan, a deep sound he barely recognized.

"This is... highly inappropriate, knight." _I missed you, too._ He moved a hand to the back of her head and took charge of the kiss, exploring her mouth with renewed vigor. The wind began to pick up around them and Danse shielded her against it. Adams broke off, catching her breath. He touched her hand on his cheek, wishing he could feel her skin through the cold, heavy metal. Adams was smiling at him, pearly teeth just visible between her lips. _Just for you,_ he told himself.

"I need to report to Proctor Ingram for my new assignment." She reminded him. He looked over her shoulder, Boston spread out before them, their only witness.

"Are you ready to continue our mission, soldier?" _You're still her CO,_ he reminded himself.

Adams' elbow snapped up in a salute. "I was born ready, sir." Danse felt his mouth twitch with suppressed laughter.

 

Adams walked ahead of him. She had a new swagger; a confident stride she hadn't possessed before, and she held her head high. Danse kept up his stoic exterior as everyone they passed stopped Adams to commend her on her fieldwork. Inside, his admiration battled with the smug pride he couldn't help but feel. Adams checked her power armor was still in the workshop and dropped her duffle off at Proctor Teagan's store for trade and restocking. He unzipped it on the counter, and his jaw fell open. "Did you raid a military base?" He asked her, astonished.

"Two military bases, an old Med-Tek research facility, a couple of raider camps and the Boston Mayoral Shelter." Knight Adams rattled off.

"And I suppose there was the Weston Water Plant as well." Teagan reminded her.

She made a face. "There was nothing there," she snipped back at Teagan. "Although I will admit we found a decent stash looting super mutant corpses," she added thoughtfully.

Teagan laughed heartily, mischief winking in his eyes. "Yes, I read your report. I don't suppose MacCready ever thought about joining the Brotherhood, did he?" Danse gritted his teeth. _Robert Joseph MacCready..._ He wanted to throttle him for walking her into that Gunner's nest.

"I don't think MacCready would go for it." Adams replied soberly. "His wife was killed by feral ghouls while he escaped with his son. He's heading back to the Commonwealth to see if the cure worked." _And with any luck he'll stay there,_ Danse thought darkly.

"Scribe Neriah was very pleased with your samples. She's working with Quinlan to see if the cure for the Blue Plague can be replicated. You're an asset to the Brotherhood, Knight." Teagan winked suggestively at the knight, and met Danse's eye with a grin.

Adams had the grace to appear humbled. "Thank you, Proctor." She received her duffle back and headed into the workshop.

 

Knight Adams' power armor let out a low, familiar _hiss_ as it compressed around her. Danse always felt like he could take on the world in his suit, but with Knight Adams behind him in her own, he felt indestructible. Instead of climbing down the ladder to the command deck she used the railing as a slide, landing on her feet in her usual fashion. Danse guiltily checked to make sure no one important had seen. He caught Maxson's eye when he hit the floor. His pale eyes locked onto his and although his face didn't betray him, Danse saw the flicker of a challenge. The pale eyes flicked to Knight Adams and back to Danse, who snapped his fist to his chest in a respectful salute. Elder Maxson returned the gesture. Perhaps Brandis was right. Arthur was drawing too many conclusions between Adams and the Lone Wanderer. _Ridiculous._ Danse shrugged off Maxson's attitude and followed Adams out. On the flight deck, there was one available vertibird, but the pilot was in the mess taking his dinner break.

"I want to dive off." Adams announced airily.

Danse turned to face her, eyebrows knotting together. "Affirmative." He was glad his helmet concealed his face. Adams might lose her footing if she saw him actually smile. She went first, stepping off the Prydwen like she'd done it a thousand times. He watched her fall with mild amusement, and stepped off himself. He hit the ground, in a crouch.

"Perfect landing, Paladin." Her helmet was tossed back, and she held out her hand. He took it, and let her haul him to his feet. He admired the copper strands in her hair reflecting the sunlight. _No man in the wasteland could argue that she isn't attractive,_ his thoughts echoed Cutler's remarks about the Lone Wanderer. He removed his own helmet and began slow marching towards the airport. Adams was practically beaming up at Liberty Prime. Danse allowed himself a smug grin. He was so proud of his charge and how well she reflected on the Brotherhood.

The electromagnetic actuators that Knight Adams had put together for Proctor Ingram were more than sufficient. Liberty Prime twisted his wrists backwards and forwards with a smooth _whirr_ as a couple of Scribes ran diagnostics. "It won't be long before Prime can walk and talk," Ingram informed them loftily. "And he's missing one last element: his nukes." She frowned. "Without them, his offensive systems aren't operating at peak capacity."

"Surely that's a non-issue." Adams shrugged. "Just tell us where they are. Simple location and extraction, right?"

Ingram snorted. "I wish I could. Prime's bomb pack is fitted for Mark 28 nuclear warheads. The same bombs that were dropped on airports during the Great War. The Commonwealth was a major staging area for the military's air force, and so we assumed we wouldn't have any trouble locating them."

 

Since we arrived, however, our scouting teams haven't located a single warhead. Not one."

Adams opened her mouth.

"That's going to be a problem." Doctor Li interrupted with a scowl, silencing the knight. Danse frowned. He wasn't fond of the scientist, a feeling that stretched all the back to her arrival in the Citadel, and he admired Adams for tolerating her with dignity. Under the same circumstances, he wasn't sure he could have remained as diplomatic as the knight. "Without a fully loaded nuke pack, Prime won't have the firepower to take on the Institute."

Adams nodded sagely in agreement and Proctor Ingram raised an eyebrow. "She's absolutely right," Adams shrugged. "We need that advantage over them to win. Every advantage," she added under her breath.

"Well, there is a silver lining here," Ingram continued. "Proctor Quinlan has located some records regarding a military installation which was used as a nuclear weapons storage facility pre-War. We're fairly certain this included a stockpile of Mark 28's, but we can't know for sure."

"What's the catch?" Adams asked sharply.

"The catch is that the installation is located somewhere within the Glowing Sea."

Knight Adams pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. "I'll head out there immediately."

Ingram nodded. "Good. Because that's exactly what we're asking you to do." Scribe Haylen has established a communications point on the frontier of the Sea. Your orders are to meet her there and establish a signal protocol. When you've found them, the nukes are going to be airlifted out by vertibird. Hopefully by the time you've returned, we'll be ready to wake Prime up, and you can say 'hello'."

Adams gaze shifted back towards the robot, her eyes glazing over with what Danse assumed was motherly pride.

"Good luck, Knight. Paladin," Ingram added, nodding to Danse, returning to the control platform.

"Ready to go, Danse?" Danse looked down at her, her grey eyes filled with a familiar fearlessness. He made a mental note to keep her in line. Her fearlessness often turned into recklessness on the battlefield, and he didn't need to be reminded of what she'd lost. She had nothing to lose, regardless of how he might feel about her. _I care about you too much to let that happen._ He reminded himself of her words, and felt marginally comforted. Her miserable, brooding days were far behind them now, and Knight Adams stood before him, battle-hardened and experienced in combat. _You're a little bit in love with her,_ he was slowly realizing. Admitting it made him feel lighter.

"Locked and loaded." He finally replied with a gratuitous smile, and watched her whole face light up.

 

_

 

"Scribe Haylen?" They arrived at Waypoint Echo at dawn the next day.

"It's good to see you again Knight. You've come a long way since you stumbled into the Cambridge police station." Haylen grinned. "Paladin Danse." She gave a sharp salute, and he returned it.

"Thanks Haylen. I assume the place is still in one piece?" Adams asked wryly.

She shrugged. "We're doing the best that we can. We've had the occasional synth attack, but so far we've been able to keep them from overrunning us. Thanks to the reinforcements and the air support, I'd say that site was secure." She scratched her head.

"That's not surprising," Adams voice was filled with admiration. "It's in good hands."

"I appreciate that. Anyway, I know you don't have time for small talk, so I'll get right to it. I've had the men set up the equipment we'll need to pinpoint you, once you've located the stockpile. We've rigged up this distress pulser. It emits a sound on a unique frequency that only we should be able to pick up. When you find the bombs, plant the pulser and we'll handle the rest. After that you're ordered to report back to Proctor Ingram. She is... eagerly awaiting your report."

"I'll bet." Danse agreed.

"That doesn't sound too difficult," Knight Adams replied archly.

Scribe Haylen was taken aback. "Oh, no, not at all. You're only heading back into the most inhospitable place in the entire Commonwealth." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Look, I know you've been through the Glowing Sea before but remember to keep an eye on your Geiger counter. If you don't, the radiation will cook you from the inside out." Haylen paused somberly. "Good luck, Knight. Paladin Danse." She saluted again.

 

The Glowing Sea was its usual charming self. Fifteen minutes in and the pair were assaulted by no less than three radscorpions at once. Although their stingers had a hard time finding purchase on their power armor they weren't an easy kill. Danse was back to back with Adams, his favorite tactical maneuver. He took care of the two small ones encroaching on their position while Adams was unloading a clip into the bigger one. Although he couldn't see her, he could tell from the way she was holding her breath and the ringing in his ears that she was using her .50 caliber marksman's rifle.

She waited for him to catch his breath, examining a bloody corpse. "Your thoughts?" She called.

"You point, I shoot." Danse shrugged, grinning to himself. She checked her PipBoy compass. "You know," he called. "For as much as Proctor Ingram and Scribe Haylen seem to think we're stabbing in the dark here, you seem to know where we're going."

Adams helmet turned to look at him. "I have a hunch. Before the Great War, my husband was briefly stationed as a guard in Prescott, on a military operation known as Sentinel. Only very briefly."

"And that's where we're headed." It wasn't a question.

"It came straight to my mind the moment Proctor Ingram told me it was somewhere in the Glowing Sea. It felt like -"

"Fate." Danse finished for her. Her helmet turned away to stare impassively into the thick green fog. "We need to get out of this radiation," he reminded her.

"Affirmative." They resumed their long trudge through the hot ash.

 

"This is it."

He came up behind her. Four massive pillars of stone remained upright, half-buried in two centuries of ash. A stone pyramid towered above them to their right. "Move out, soldier." His Geiger counter was ticking intimidatingly. As they approached the pyramid, Danse noticed a crate balanced precariously close to the door. "That's a Mark 28 nuclear warhead." He announced, his mouth dry. "I can hardly believe it."

"What did you call it? _Fate?_ " Adams reached out a hand to touch it. "I'm sure there's a bigger payload inside. Sir?"

"After you, Knight." They breached the door, and it closed behind him. Danse's Geiger counter fell silent. He decompressed his helmet and flicked it back. Adams was doing the same. The door in front of them now was six foot by six foot, lead-lined, impenetrable steel. Adams glanced at him, and gripped two of the spokes on the handle. Danse grimaced and grabbed two more, and they heaved to the left. It was old, but it was in good condition. The lock groaned and squealed and spit out a few sparks, but it turned. He counted the iron cross bars as they slid into their passive position. It felt like a year had passed when the door opened, grinding awfully loudly across the metal platform. "It looks like they converted this place into a launching silo," he remarked.

"Then it was before Nate's time." Adams shuddered. "He... he would have said something. Nukes made him nervous. If they were this close he would have moved us away."

Danse's curiosity grew. Knight Adams rarely spoke of her husband, and when she did her voice was undercut with thinly veiled bitterness.

"The elevator is out of order," she frowned, though her eyes were filled with sudden amusement. "We're taking the long way down again, Paladin."

Danse peered over the edge of the railing. "We could dive."

"And set off a thousand nukes?" Adams' jaw dropped.

Danse snapped back to reality. _You need to think clearly,_ he reprimanded himself. "Of course, Knight. Outstanding assessment. Take the lead." In his power armor the walk through the facility felt like a slow crawl. They back-tracked once or twice, before finally reaching the silo floor. More Mark 28's littered the room, firmly packed in their crates.

 

Knight Adams' mouth was a thin line. "We need to go deeper," she demanded.

Danse obliged, as the first mole rat tunneled through the crumbling concrete floor. Adams sprang into action beside him, drawing what Danse realized was his old Righteous Authority, albeit heavily modified. He shot four down, and Adams took out the other three. He swung around to face her, breathing heavily, and came nose-to-barrel with his old rifle. Adams eyes were saucers in her head, and she twitched her head to the right. He leaned left, and she fired. He felt the shot, burning against his right ear, and heard the wet gargle of a ghoul, dying behind him. He sank to his knees in relief. "Damn."

"Thought you'd be used to that by now." Knight Adams' teeth were bared in a wicked grin.

"That synth in Arc Jet caught me by surprise," he replied darkly. He looked at the ghoul. "That was carelessness."

Adams' cupped his chin in her hand, running her thumb through his beard, over his lip. "Don't beat yourself up." She told him softly. Danse's decorum alarms were ringing in his head. She dropped her hand, and headed into the tunnel the ghoul came from. He followed, and their laser rifles lit it up about thirty seconds later. "How many was that?" He heard Adams breathing roughly.

"Eleven," he called back. Once, Adams had been a rare talent. She was good with a gun, and had saved his life more times than he cared to count. Something in her had shifted though, Danse could feel it. She'd become a deadly force to be reckoned with. She never missed. Ashy piles of ghoul heads were splattered all over the rails and walls to prove it. He almost felt like an accessory. MacCready had honed her gift into a sixth sense. Adams used her guns like an extension of her will; without resistance. Dove grey eyes landed on him, and she exhaled loudly, interrupting his assessment. The green glow from her PipBoy light lit up the tunnel. It was almost as good as daylight. The tunnel wound further and further underground. They came across the occasional room of ghouls, easily dispatched now that they were wary. Adams found a bunkhouse off one of the tunnels. "We should bivouac here," Danse announced.

"Affirmative." Adams was pawing through the footlockers, and Danse busied himself filing through the wall units. The one on the end was jammed, and he used his combat knife to jimmy it open. Some ammo, a hat, fresh underwear, and a manila folder full of pre-War photographs. An old wedding photo, faces too small to make out. A broad-shouldered blonde man being kissed by a small, ginger-haired woman. The man in uniform, the woman in a long, black gown. And finally, the woman. Copper hair framing her face, intense grey eyes smiling warmly up at the camera.

"Adams." His voice felt thick in his mouth.

She appeared at his elbow. "Oh my God." She pressed her fingers to her mouth. " _Oh my God._ " She tore the folder from his hands, and climbed up the bunk, closest to the door, furthest away from him. Danse decompressed out of his power armor and sat down heavily on the closest bunk. He put his head back, feeling empty.

 

"Paladin Danse." He sat up, bleary eyed from sleep, and hit his head on the top of the bunk. Knight Adams bit her lip. "I'm sorry. That looked like it hurt."

He rubbed his head. "I have a thicker skull than that." He replied weakly.

"We need to get going. I feel like I haven’t seen the sun in weeks." Danse agreed with Adams' assessment. He stepped into his armor, and felt the familiar weight compressing around him. The manila folder was still on the bunk she had slept in. "You should take those," he told her seriously.

Adams shook her head. "They weren't for me. They were for a man I loved. He left them here. That's where he intended them to stay, who am I to judge him for it?" Her tone was lofty, uncaring. If he knew her for the next hundred years he didn't think he'd ever understand her.

He flipped open the folder. The shot of her face was lying on top. She looked so young, and there was a carefree, wild look in her eyes. Adams' power armor compressed around her and she stomped out of the bunkhouse, not even trying to be stealthy. He scowled, and tucked the folder in his uniform before stepping back into his own armor. He was blurring the lines between Knight and Paladin; between soldier and commanding officer, dangerously. He didn't know why he kept them, except that he thought she might want them later, and wondered at the chain of events that had led this woman astray from her life over two hundred years ago and into his. _Fate._ That was what he always said, wasn't it? He followed Knight Adams wordlessly from the bunkhouse and back into the tunnel. _There's more to life than the Brotherhood,_ Cutler had once told him. Danse felt very afraid that he'd found it. Or that it had found him, completely unprepared.

 

They exited the tunnel into another concrete silo. Mark 28 crates were stacked up across the room. A cast iron security door covered the eastern wall, and as Danse stepped towards it he heard his Geiger counter pick up. "We need to get in here," he told Adams urgently. She frowned, and pressed a red button on the wall. They waited in silence.

"Nothing." She glanced at the terminal to the left of the door. Danse could see through it; it was totally busted. There was a small door behind it, though, and Adams made a beeline for it. A low, hydraulic hiss echoed behind them. The hairs on the back of Danse's neck stood up straight, and Knight Adams turned back around, confused. A sickly green glow washed over her face, which was slowly morphing into a terrified grimace.

She raised Righteous Authority, too late. A wet snarl filled the room from behind him, and the Glowing One lunged. A rotten, irradiated fingernail caught Knight Adams' cheek, and blood spattered across the floor, staining the concrete. Adams was already unloading her clip into the ghoul's chest but each fresh hole began closing up almost immediately. _Healed by radiation. This ghoul is as old as Adams._ Danse tried to aim for the creature's head, but couldn't get a clear shot.

"Adams!" He shouted desperately. "I need you to duck." He did his best to keep his voice level. Adams tucked her head against her chest and rammed her shoulder into the ghoul. Its head flailed back on its neck and he took aim. Nuclear material spilled against the wall behind Adams, and she looked up at him from where the Glowing One's head used to be. She was as white as a sheet, and shaking.

Danse took her in his arms, trying to stay calm. What he really wanted to do was take a leaf out of Adams' book, and fill the ghoul's corpse with a clip full of hot lead. The gouge in her face was deep, and looked filthy. Glowing green particles were speckled through the red, and he untwisted the seal on a RadAway. "Take this. You're not getting radiation poisoning on my watch, Knight." Adams shivered in her power armor. "You should have left your helmet on."

"I know, Danse." She snapped, and pushed his hands away from her face. She stimmed herself, lining the needle point up perfectly with her carotid artery, and wiped away the blood with a clean rag. Blood was congealing on her face already, and Danse realized that would have to do for now. They still had a mission to complete. "I'll have a lovely scar," she stretched out her neck, glaring at her reflection in one of the Mark 28 shell casings. "It'll match Elder Maxson's, don't you think?" She laughed dryly.

Danse had no response for that.

 

Adams hesitated, and finally tried the door behind the terminal. A small man, dressed in the rags of the Children of Atom, accosted his Knight. "State your purpose stranger. You walk on Atom's hallowed ground."

"I'm looking for some bombs. Nuclear bombs." The Knight's voice was terse.

"The Children of Atom have sworn to guard this place until the time of the Great Divide. None shall enter here." His voice echoed faintly, setting Danse's teeth on edge.

"Tell me where the nukes are." The edge in her voice almost made him uncomfortable. Without drawing attention to his presence, he tried to get a better look.

"The relics will remain and you will leave. _Now_." The man hissed.

"This is your last warning." Adams switched off her safety and fired two rounds into the stranger's head. Danse heard the familiar _whirr_ ing of an assaultron springing to life.

"GET DOWN!" He exploded up the stairs and threw the knight behind him, unloading his clip into the android's central processor. Knight Adams' .50 cal went off between his legs, blowing a hole through the thing into the control unit behind it. The lights behind its face went out with a shudder. The unseen machine gun turret fired several rounds into Danse's shoulder, and he stumbled into the wall.

"Danse!" Knight Adams gasped, unloading a clip into the turret.

Danse pulled the bullet out of his power armor and winced at the dent. "It takes more than that to scratch me." He frowned. "I'm not sure you handled that well but under the circumstances, I'll let it slide. Does that terminal unlock our door?"

Adams fingers fired away at the keyboard. He heard an alarm sound faintly in the distance, and the heavy metal door scraping at its hinges.

"Well done, Knight." He eyed her fondly. The door opened up into a warehouse, he noticed as they walked through it. A warehouse full of Mark 28's. They lined every shelf, from the floor to the ceiling. "Outstanding." His voice echoed through the room. Knight Adams walked ahead of him, and he closed his eyes. _Elder Maxson's orders,_ he reminded himself helpfully, as if it would make him feel better. For the first time since he joined the Brotherhood, it didn't. _It's not for long._ "Now that this site's been secured, your orders are to return to the airport immediately. I'll remain here, on watch until the vertibirds arrive."

Knight Adams' mouth twisted. "Was it something I said?"

Danse paused, and reached between them, finally tucking that stray strand of copper hair neatly behind her ear. "Not at all. I just don't have a choice." _You've done it again,_ he wanted to say. _Brought honor and glory to the Brotherhood. Made me proud._ "Elder Maxon's orders were quite clear." He said instead. "I'm not to take my eyes off these bombs until every single one has been counted, tested, and loaded. If we want Liberty Prime to reach peak fighting efficiency, we can't afford to lose this stockpile." Her grey eyes were regarding him warily. He understood not wanting to be away from her. When he returned to the Prydwen, he would discuss relationship protocols with her, begin filing requests, approach Brandis and Teagan about sponsorship. Adams opened her mouth to argue, and shut it, wincing at the pain in her cheek. "Dismissed, Knight." He raised his eyebrows at her defiant glare.

He closed the gap between them in two strides, and kissed her. Blood, dirt and all. There was so much more he wanted to say, but right now he had orders. _That's how its always going to be,_ he knew. It wouldn't matter if they loved each other. The Brotherhood of Steel would always have to come first. They would talk about it later; he would explain everything, when he got back. Right now, Adams needed patching up and he had orders to follow. Danse watched Adams go, his heart heavy still, but lighter than before, for the first time in a long time.


End file.
